The Plus One Pact

by MacIntosh, Portia

  Anyway, we’re only here for two nights, and I’m sure tomorrow night things will seem more normal. And then it’s back to Leeds, where we have separate bedrooms, so it’s going to be fine.

  The sooner I fall asleep, the sooner I can wake up, and then I get to see this place in the daylight. I’m looking forward to that more than anything. That’s far more my scene, and my kind of mystery, than hooking up with people while blindfolded.

  Still, if that’s true, I wonder why I can’t quite get it out of my head…

  14

  I have woken up in darkness not unlike the darkness I fell asleep in but, after glancing at my phone, I know that it’s 10 a.m., so it’s definitely morning.

  I dare to roll over in bed, but Millsy isn’t there. He must have closed the curtains when he got up, to give me some privacy in the daylight.

  I’m facing the bedroom door now, that’s how I notice it slowly opening, a small amount of light creeping in a little bit at a time. For a moment I just stare at it. It might be morning now, but I’m still in semi-darkness, still here in this room all alone, in this house, in the middle of nowhere, with no idea where anyone is…

  I listen carefully for signs of life in the house. That’s when I hear the strangest noise… heavy breathing, perhaps? Coming from my side of the bed now. No, not heavy breathing, sniffing, it’s…

  I flip over quickly and glance down at the floor.

  ‘Oh my God! Hello!’

  I jump out of bed and crouch down on the floor to give the gorgeous little white Scottie dog all the love and attention the little cutie deserves.

  A few seconds later Millsy comes running in.

  ‘Dougie, there you are,’ he says. He flicks the light on. ‘Sorry, Cara, did he wake you?’

  ‘No, no, I was already awake,’ I tell him.

  Dougie licks my neck, trying to advance his kisses towards my face.

  ‘Come on, Dougie, give her some space,’ Millsy insists.

  As he makes a move towards Dougie, Dougie runs out of the room.

  ‘Anyway, good morning,’ he says. ‘Sleep well?’

  ‘I did,’ I reply.

  ‘Were you having bad dreams?’ he asks.

  ‘No, I… Oh, my dream has just come back to me a bit – you were in it,’ I tell him.

  ‘Do you remember what was happening?’

  ‘I don’t,’ I reply. ‘I just kind of remember you being there…’

  ‘Huh. Because you were really writhing around at one point. I thought something awful must be happening…’

  ‘Oh…’ I feel myself blush. ‘Nope, that’s it. I don’t remember at all.’

  And I really hope I never do. Given what was on my mind before I fell asleep, he was either killing me or… or… God, I feel as if I’m blushing even harder, if that’s even possible.

  ‘Anyway, the adults are going out for a walk. Would you rather just chill out here? Have some food, take in the view – or you could try out the fancy bath.’

  ‘That would be great,’ I reply. ‘I’ll just shove some clothes on quickly so I can meet your gran before they set off.’

  ‘OK, sure,’ he says. ‘I’ll leave you to it, see you out there.’

  As soon as Millsy is gone I feel my cheeks start to cool down. I shove some clothes on, brush my hair, and pop into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth.

  I walk along the little corridor into the living room where Millsy’s dad, Rod, his stepmum, Mhairi, and his gran, Iona, are sitting. I need to keep reminding myself of their names, so that I don’t forget.

  ‘Good morning,’ Rod says. ‘Sleep well?’

  ‘Oh, amazingly, thank you,’ I reply.

  I can see that the three of them are all dressed and ready to head out for their walk.

  ‘This is my gran, Iona,’ Millsy tells me. ‘Gran, this is Cara.’

  ‘Hello, hen,’ Iona says. She pulls herself up from her chair and heads over to give me a hug.

  ‘Happy birthday,’ I tell her brightly.

  ‘Oh, thank you,’ she replies.

  Iona looks great for her age. She’s small and skinny and moves around easily. It’s great that she’s still so active. I suppose people usually think of old ladies as the type who just want to sit in their chair and knit but it’s just not true.

  ‘We’re going to go for a walk,’ she says. ‘Nothing too far, but Millsy says you’re going to have some breakfast.’

  ‘Yes,’ I reply. ‘We’ll have a proper chat when you get back.’

  As the three of them filter out, it occurs to me that she calls Millsy, well, Millsy. Not Joe, as the rest of the family does.

  ‘Oh, Millsy, remember about Dougie,’ Iona says, popping her head back in the room.

  ‘Will do,’ he calls after her. ‘See you soon.’

  ‘Does Dougie not like walks?’ I ask Millsy, once it’s just me, him and the dog.

  ‘Well, he’s getting a bit older now. Sometimes, when you walk him, he sits down and refuses to move. Gran was reminding me not to let him out in the back garden without his lead, because he sometimes forgets that he can’t swim and jumps into the loch.’

  It suddenly occurs to me that I’m standing in the middle of the living room surrounded by windows, but I haven’t looked outside yet.

  Sure enough, at the bottom of the back garden, through the trees, I can see the loch shining under the sunshine.

  ‘Oh, wow,’ I say.

  ‘We could have something to eat, put Dougie’s lead on and then take a stroll down the garden, if you like. You won’t believe how far you can see.’

  ‘I’d love that,’ I reply.

  ‘OK, well, how about you go upstairs and have a bath, get ready, and while you’re doing that, I’ll make us some… pancakes?’

  I bite my lip.

  ‘God, you say all the right things,’ I tell him.

  He just laughs.

  ‘Bathroom is at the top of the stairs, there are clean towels on the side, I checked.’

  I don’t need much persuading. I grab the bag with my toiletries in, along with my clean clothes, and head upstairs.

  I had heard that the bathroom was nice – but I had no idea just how nice it was.

  At the back of the room, with beautiful granite tiles and cream candles dotted everywhere, there’s a large free-standing copper bath. I’ve never seen anything like it in real life. Well, the only baths I’ve ever been in have been made of some kind of plastic, and they’re usually squashed against a wall with a shower above them. This is like something out of a hotel I probably couldn’t afford to stay in.

  I use the delicious-smelling products to run myself a deep bath before gently lowering myself in and lying back. Oh, God, this is the life. I think I could stay here all day – I could even sleep in here, save me having to share a bed with Millsy again. Who am I kidding though? It wasn’t so bad sharing a bed with him, and now he’s making me breakfast. There is a lot to be said for platonic relationships with men. I’m almost certain I could happily marry him and live like this forever. Although I suppose that’s easy to say now, but God knows what I’d be dreaming about if I signed myself up for a sexless marriage.

  Anyway, that’s a thought for another time. All I need to think about now is absolutely nothing. I just need to relax, enjoy my bath, and then go and eat my breakfast. Oh, and then we’re walking down the garden to see the loch. What an amazing morning I’m having so far, and it’s only going to get better from here. It could almost make me want to rush my bath but, for now, I’m going to make the most of how relaxed I feel. And I can’t think of a single thing that could ruin this moment for me.

  15

  I feel the bubbles gently tickling the sides of my face as I relax in the bath with everything but my face under the water. With only my mouth, nose and eyes above the surface, the smooth warm water caresses almost every inch of me and it’s glorious. I had no idea deep baths could be so relaxing. Well, I didn’t have a bath in my old flat, and even in the
one at my parents' house I always had my head, boobs, knees or a combination of them poking out of the water. I would almost have to let my different body parts take it in turns to be under the water, but not here, not in this amazing bath.

  There’s something so peaceful about having your ears underwater. It’s the way the water fills them, blocking out the sound from the room, sort of like when you pick up a seashell and raise it to your ear to ‘hear the sea’.

  My state of ultimate relaxation is disturbed when I notice a faint sound. Is that… is that a ringing in my ears? Do I have tinnitus? Is that even what tinnitus sounds like? Like a sort of strange alarm sound.

  I sit up quickly and realise that the noise isn’t in my head (or my ears), it’s in the house. It sounds like a smoke alarm.

  I spring from the water, giving my body the fastest once-over with a towel before throwing on my clothes and my trainers, which I’d thankfully brought up with me. I dash down the stairs with a level of athleticism I didn’t know I had in me and, for some reason I don’t run out of the front door, I run to the kitchen, where the alarm is coming from, where I left Millsy.

  I breathe a sigh of relief when I realise that he’s absolutely fine. He’s just wafting a tea towel under the smoke alarm. The room is a little smoky but there are no signs of a fire. With the large patio door open in the living room the smell will hopefully drift outside, and the fresh air coming in will clear out the smell of smoke before people get back.

  ‘What happened?’ I shout over the alarm.

  ‘Huh?’ he calls back.

  ‘What happened?’ I shout again, raising my voice even louder. The alarm cuts off halfway through my sentence.

  ‘I accidentally set the pan on fire,’ he says, a little more casually than I would have expected.

  ‘Well, I did figure it would have been an accident,’ I reply. ‘You OK? Where’s the pan?’

  ‘I ran outside with it,’ he tells me. ‘Don’t worry, I put it out.’

  ‘Maybe we should check,’ I suggest. ‘Imagine if you destroyed your gran’s garden – imagine if it spread to the house.’

  ‘OK, yeah,’ he says. ‘Let’s go.’

  Sure enough, on the patio outside the large sliding door, there is a frying pan with rather black-looking contents inside it. It smells a little smoky but the fire is definitely out.

  ‘Phew,’ he says. ‘Crisis averted.’

  ‘Thank God,’ I say. ‘I feel like things always go wrong around us. It’s like we’re jinxed.’

  Millsy just laughs.

  I glance down the garden, towards the loch, tilting my head to try and get a better look through the trees, as though that’s going to help. Where we’re standing right now the trees hide the view.

  ‘Want to go look?’ Millsy suggests. ‘There’s a jetty down there. You can walk out onto it, see up and down the loch. It’s an incredible view.’

  ‘I’d love to,’ I reply.

  At the bottom of the garden, at the edge of the water, there is a wooden boathouse and a small jetty. I walk down the hill, making sure to keep my balance as I head for the jetty to take in the view – we want absolutely no more accidents.

  From here I can see far and wide across the loch. The water is so flat and so clear, it’s acting like a mirror, reflecting an exact copy of the view. It’s almost creepy, like an optical illusion, or something… It’s just mesmerising.

  ‘Wow,’ I blurt. I feel as if I’m saying that a lot here. ‘It’s just so… what is that?’

  In the centre of the loch there’s a small island. Too small to have anything on it, apart from plant life, but there’s something else on there…

  ‘Is that…?’ I narrow my eyes to get a better look. ‘Is that Dougie?’

  ‘Fuck,’ Millsy blurts. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck. He must have got out when I ran out with the pan. Fuck.’

  ‘OK, wait, let’s not panic,’ I start. ‘He swam out there, right, so he must be able to swim back? Did your gran say he couldn’t swim?’

  ‘He… he sort of forgets that he can’t swim, tries to swim, swims a bit, then gets stuck.’

  ‘At least he’s safe on the island,’ I reply. ‘Maybe he can swim back? If he sees us waiting for him?’

  ‘Maybe,’ Millsy replies, running a hand through his hair as he puffs air from his cheeks. ‘Dougie. Come here, Dougie. Good boy, you can do it.’

  Dougie approaches the edge of the island, looks down at the water, and retreats a few steps. There is no way he’s going to swim back.

  ‘Even if I swam out to him, it’s no use, there’s no way I can swim back holding onto him,’ Millsy says as he anxiously shifts his weight between his feet. He doesn’t take his eyes off Dougie for a second.

  ‘Is it deep?’ I ask curiously.

  ‘I’m pretty sure my gran once told me it was nearing 150 feet deep, at its deepest point, so…’

  ‘OK. Erm…’ God, that is deep, isn’t it? ‘So… did you say there was a boat?’

  Millsy finally takes his eyes off Dougie and darts towards the boathouse.

  ‘Dammit, it’s locked,’ he says, tugging on the side-door padlock.

  Feeling pretty confident that Dougie will not get back in the water, I hurry over to Millsy, to see if I can help.

  I watch as he walks a lap of the wooden boathouse, checking each piece of wood to see if he can loosen it, explaining as he does so that the main door for the boat opens from the inside. The boathouse is in good nick though; there’s no way he’s getting through the walls. Not without an axe, but I don’t think I’ll suggest that just yet.

  ‘Shit, there’s no way to get in,’ Millsy says. ‘Seriously, Cara, my gran loves that dog, and I love my gran. We need to save him before she gets back.’

  Perhaps I should suggest finding an axe…

  ‘Is there no other way in?’ I ask.

  ‘Well… yeah, actually, there’s water inside. I could jump in the loch and swim under the door, open it from the inside.’

  ‘Can’t you just kick the door in?’ I ask. ‘I really don’t think jumping in the loch and swimming under the door is a great idea.’

  ‘The way the hinges go, if I kick the door in, I’ll destroy it.’

  ‘I’m really not sure this is a good idea, Millsy,’ I say nervously.

  ‘I honestly think this is our only shot at doing it without anyone finding out,’ he replies.

  ‘Can we not just search the house for a key?’

  ‘There’s no key,’ he tells me. ‘Just a padlock. OK, I’m just going to do it, no more messing around, OK?’

  ‘Millsy, wait,’ I say quickly. I stop him just in time.

  ‘What?’

  ‘What kind of padlock is it?’ I ask.

  ‘Cara, seriously? Is now really the time to nerd-out over padlocks?’

  Millsy rolls his eyes.

  ‘I’m not nerding-out,’ I insist, making my way towards the boathouse door. I crouch down and examine the padlock. ‘Ah, see, it’s a number padlock…’

  ‘What, you think my gran is going to have an obvious combo and we can guess it? Life isn’t an escape game,’ he tells me with a bit of a chuckle. He seems too anxious for a full-blown mocking laugh.

  ‘Well, there is that,’ I reply. ‘But I can absolutely crack these.’

  ‘Crack them?’

  ‘Yeah, like, open them without the code,’ I tell him. ‘When I worked in the escape rooms, before I designed them, all the time we would have people accidentally resetting locks to new combinations, or staff members doing it, ruining the flow of people’s games and, well, at some point, everyone just learns how to do it.’

  ‘Really? How?’

  I’m not sure he believes me.

  ‘OK, watch closely,’ I tell him. ‘For next time you’re here, without me, and you don’t have anyone to save your arse.’

  ‘Fair,’ he replies. ‘Go on.’

  ‘So you pull down on the lock, away from the shackle, and hold it there. Then you slowly move the num
ber dials, one at a time, until you find the one that is hardest to move.’

  I explain the process as I’m doing it, not only to try and get Dougie back over here before Iona gets back, but because I worry that, if I’m not quick, Millsy will just dive into the loch.

  ‘Then you move the dial and, when you’re on the right number, you’ll hear a louder click. And you just do that three times and then, with the fourth one… there are only nine numbers so… voila!’

  The padlock pops open in my hand.

  ‘Cara, Cara, Cara, you big nerd, thank you,’ Millsy tells me.

  He kisses me on the cheek, which makes my cheeks flush. I quickly turn to look out towards Dougie so Millsy can’t see my face.

  I shrug casually. I always hoped my lock-picking skills would come in useful for something real. Maybe working in an escape room wasn’t a totally stupid job after all. Oh, and I suppose it landed me the real job I have now, which is probably a far better benefit, right? Still, it felt cool (in the most uncool way) to pop that lock open.

  Millsy goes through the side door, opening up the main door from inside the boathouse before hopping into the wooden row boat.

  ‘Come with me?’ he asks. ‘You could hold Dougie while I row, make sure he doesn’t jump out?’

  ‘Of course,’ I reply, although I’m a little uneasy about crossing the water – water that is potentially 150 feet deep – in the tiny wooden boat. Still, I hop in, because Millsy needs my help.

  As we slowly make our way across to poor little Dougie the view completely opens up to us. I can see so far, in so many directions, and so many different things too. The loch, the castle across the water, and there are trees for days!

  Millsy gets us safely to the island. I grab Dougie, who is very soggy and kind of smelly, and we head straight back to the jetty. With Dougie safe in my arms, and the two of us standing back on dry land, Millsy carefully returns the boat to the boathouse and locks the door, clicking the padlock shut before shuffling the numbers to lock it again.